


Sparks Fly

by Delphicoracle_Cat



Category: Starlight Express - Phillips/Stilgoe/Webber
Genre: Bondage, Electrocution, M/M, Masturbation, Rough Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 11:37:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11230137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphicoracle_Cat/pseuds/Delphicoracle_Cat
Summary: Electra has some angry words after Greaseball beats him in the first race, though the argument rapidly turns into something else entirely. And of course CB is around to be a voyeuristic little sadist about it. Greaseball/Electra, with CB creeping around the corner.





	Sparks Fly

“I don’t like losing.”

The words weren’t addressed to him—in fact, CB was so inconspicuous at the moment that no one would have thought to address him. No, the hissed and low frequency words were meant for a certain diesel engine, who was not given time to reply before being violently shunted from behind by a bright, sleek, metallic train. 

The motion jostled Greaseball on his wheels and the momentum carried him forward until he crashed into the wall of a nearby shed. But the diesel was a strong and sturdy engine and it would take more than a bashing to knock him out, let alone frighten him, CB knew.

The red caboose huddled behind the corner of the shed and watched as Greaseball whirled around and thrust his limbs up in time to block another bashing, though the impact still sent him crashing back into the wall with a resonant thunk. CB flinched a little as the shed rattled under the impact, but the sight made his systems pump and flare in interest. 

Electra had a fierce snarl on his features. This could be good. CB knew the electric engine was none too pleased about coming in second to Greaseball in the first heat. Would they fight? Tear each other apart? CB groaned a little at the thought and watched. 

“I… come… first,” Electra hissed. 

“A little sore about the race, toots?”

Greaseball meant to raise a limb, give the electric engine a playful little tweak on the cheek. It was no surprise the diesel found Electra to be rather enticing. Heck, CB thought the very same, with all that ruby-red and silvery-blue plating that was just begging to be marred and dented. And Electra was even more fabulous when thrumming with all that righteous indignation. Much more fun to break. 

Electra let him get within microns of his cheek. A half-second later, Greaseball yelped as something white-hot buzzed over his limb, and he and CB realized at the same time that Electra had shocked him. 

This was getting good. Greaseball wasn’t going to take that without a fight. CB pressed his face to the side of the shed, watching raptly, panting softly at the action unfolding. 

Indeed, Greaseball did not take kindly to being electrocuted. The smarmy look on his face turned stony as he tried to grab Electra again, getting shocked twice for his troubles before he was able to clasp Electra’s arm in his own steel-powered grip. That didn’t seem to discourage or stop Electra from letting loose with the electricity, and in fact a shower of sparks erupted from the place of contact between Greaseball’s hand and Electra’s arm. 

CB wondered what it felt like to be shocked like that. Probably it hurt, and the thought of pain, his and Greaseball’s (and anyone’s, really) turned him on. Greaseball’s face was tense under the assault, staring down the electric engine, until he managed to twist Electra’s arm around and bring the other engine back-to-chest with him. He probably thought he had Electra immobilized. But from where he hid, CB could see the grin of triumph on Electra’s face. It was a fierce, evil grin, and it made CB’s systems flare with heat, tingling as a rush of lubrication went straight to his pelvic plating. This little display was arousing him beyond belief and they hadn’t even seriously started hurting each other yet!

Electra gave a sudden burst of power and shunted backwards, taking Greaseball with him until they struck the shed hard. CB brought a hand down to his pelvic plating, the metal hot under his touch. Oh, this was getting too good. He expected Electra to ram Greaseball into the wall a few times, at least until Greaseball got the upper hand back, but what followed was less like fighting, as Electra merely arched against the diesel engine at his back and released a groan. 

CB nearly squeaked. Was Electra turned on by violence too? Was Greaseball, for that matter? CB watched as the diesel slapped a hand around Electra’s chest, but instead of punching or forcing the electric engine off him, his fingers slid along the dips and grooves of metal and explored the smooth paneling of Electra’s hips. 

“Are we fighting?” Greaseball asked, punctuating the cheeky smarm of his question by pressing his digits against Electra’s hips until they found a crease in the plating, dipping the tips inside and caressing sensitive circuitry. “Or fucking?”

“You’re too dirty to fuck,” Electra purred. His streamlined body arched and undulated against Greaseball’s touch, forcing the digits harder against his circuitry. The harder he pressed, the more Electra twitched in pleasure. 

“You’re not wrong.” Greaseball’s digits slid along the crease, across the smoothness of Electra’s plating. When he reached the juncture of Electra’s legs, CB saw him hesitate for a moment before he pressed the release switch, and the plating came off in his hand. 

CB couldn’t wait any longer. He mimicked Greaseball’s movements, wishing that the diesel himself was the one fumbling with his body, and CB groaned as he released his pelvic plating and let his spike extend into his hand. The metal was hot and dripping with lubrication as CB closed his hand around it. 

The caboose heard a zap and a yelp and his head snapped up. Slag. He’d missed something good, as Greaseball was now flat on his back, shaking his head to clear it, as Electra lasciviously rolled towards him, his generous, pure-silver spike bare and fully extended, glistening with lubricant. 

A crackle of electricity caught both Greaseball and CB’s eye and they followed the path of the energy as it danced over Electra’s plating and ending with glowing white sparks over the engine’s groin. 

Greaseball watched as Electra slid his digits into his own mouth, probing over them with his tongue, bringing the moist digits down to his spike where a small arc of electricity bounced between the tips of his fingers and the tip of his spike. Electra’s moan was melodic.

The sight brought a roar to Greaseball’s engines. CB wasn’t too far behind, his eyes fastened to that beautiful silvery shaft, and his own spike tingled in sympathy as he stroked it. 

“Shall we make sparks fly, darling?” Electra purred. 

Greaseball’s eyes were riveted to Electra’s spike. One thing that was clear from CB’s vantage point—Greaseball was not planning to let that thing inside him. Too bad, CB thought. All those lovely sparks looked like they would hurt, and CB for one would not have minded that. 

Greaseball subserviently got to his wheels, but the move was a feint. CB saw the way his body tensed a second before he shunted Electra hard against the shed, grabbing one of the loose cables dangling from the metal paneling and keeping the electric in place with his other limb. 

He pinned one of Electra’s limbs to the wall, looping the cable around it and cinching it tight. The movement caught the electric engine off-guard and by the time he thought to react, it was too late. Greaseball squeezed the other metallic wrist-joint in his hand and slammed it against the wall, awkwardly higher than Electra’s head, pouring his strength against the other engine’s until he securely fastened the limb.

CB’s hand flew up and down his spike and he had to force himself to slow down, venting some of the heat from his systems before he finished too soon. Electra struggled, but probably not as hard as he could have, and the way he rolled his hips and opened his legs indicated the struggle was just a token gesture. 

Greaseball took a moment to admire his handiwork before pressing the release to his own pelvic plating, releasing his thick spike. CB’s hand worked fasted on his own spike, his hand slick with lubricant, as Greaseball grabbed Electra’s hips and dragged his spike along the gilded plating of Electra’s thigh, drawing tiny sparks. 

“You said something about coming first?” Greaseball said with a smirk, and his hand disappeared between Electra’s legs. CB huffed in frustration; he couldn’t see, and judging from Electra’s deep groan and the soft wet sounds, he guessed the diesel’s hand had found his way inside Electra’s body. 

Greaseball ran his palm over Electra’s chest plating as his other hand worked lower, driving the electric into a frenzy, and CB spared a curious thought about all this switching business Electra had teased them about. What could Electra’s exotic body do, exactly? 

There came a crackling warning of electricity before Greaseball was tossed back onto his wheels by a sudden jolt. The motion caused his hand to slide free of whatever prize it had found between Electra’s legs. 

The sizzle seemed to go straight to Greaseball’s spike, energizing it, energizing him and CB couldn’t tell if Electra was surprised the shock hadn’t knocked Greaseball out, or if the damn sleek engine had meant to arouse him like that. 

Greaseball was a big engine, CB mused, shuddering as he squeezed his spike from root to tip. He could take the heat. 

“Don’t think that’ll stop me,” Greaseball drawled, and rolled back into the heaving curve of Electra’s body. He didn’t bother to soften his motion and deliberately bashed into the other engine, making him moan. 

The sparks in Electra’s eyes were as blinding as his mad grin. “Don’t think that’ll stop me.”

Another shock, probably meant to throw Greaseball flat on his aft. However, Greaseball stood strong, anchoring his hands on Electra’s hips, and with a sharp roll his spike slid hard inside the electric’s duct. Electra’s cry was loud and wanton. 

CB’s own duct clenched in jealousy. What would it feel like to have that thick, hot spike inside him? To have someone like Greaseball shunting him against the wall, over and over? Greaseball was not gentle, slamming again and again into Electra’s body, shaking the electric engine’s body and straining the cables that held his arms. 

Electra moaned and moved like someone quite used to fucking, and quite used to controlling their own pleasure, even bound to a wall. For his part, Greaseball’s expression was one of triumph, though CB guessed there were no real losers in this particular arrangement. CB’s own wheels wobbled as he watched Greaseball throw his mouth against the delicate plating of Electra’s neck, applying pressure until Electra let loose with another shock. 

The slamming of metal on metal, the sizzle and sparkle of electricity, the soft wet noises of something beyond mere metal and circuits… Ooh Starlight, it was rapidly pushing CB over the edge. He watched, trembling, his hand flying up and down his spike, as Greaseball continued to make dents in Electra’s neck, his hands still anchored to Electra’s hips. CB’s eyes went to the joint at the juncture of Electra’s legs, the place where Greaseball had teased and applied pressure earlier. 

The spot seemed to have driven Electra wild. CB would have touched it now, for Electra. Maybe he could have licked it, and watched the electric engine cry out in ecstasy, and then he could have fastened his teeth in the circuitry and ripped it apart and listened to Electra cry out in something else entirely. 

Greaseball suddenly made a loud cry, thrusting harder—as though that were even possible—and CB saw the tiny dancing sparks spreading up and down Electra’s body. Nothing meant to harm or turn off, quite the opposite. CB had the impression the shocks were involuntary, following the crescendo of Electra’s deep sighs and moans and signaling imminent climax. 

He was right. Electra came first, as Greaseball had promised, with a hard shudder and a loud moan and a thick arc of electricity and fluid jutting from his spiketip and nearly dislodging Greaseball. The sight was enough for CB, who made one last stroke to his slick spike and spread his fluid all over the side of the shed, struggling for air to cool his systems as Greaseball bit into the plating of Electra’s neck and jerked hard a few times before relaxing. 

CB moaned, both from the intensity of his climax, and the intensity of his disappointment that it hadn’t been him feeling Greaseball’s hot fluid deep inside his duct. He let his spike pulse and cool as he watched Greaseball slide out of Electra’s body, giving him an insufferably smug wink before loosening the cables around Electra’s wrists. 

They straightened and quickly cleaned up and adjusted their plating and within seconds it was as though the two hadn’t just hate-fucked so hard they nearly brought the shed down. They didn’t share so much as a word before leaving the shed, leaving no evidence of their violent tryst behind aside from a shuddering, grinning, satisfied red caboose. 

One thing was for sure—CB was going to be keeping a very close eye on these two. This looked like the start of a beautiful relationship…


End file.
